I took a class with Anspach and San Francisco State U.  He entertained the
class a couple of times at his house.  Nice progressive guy  His father in
law was also of the left.

On Sun, Feb 15, 2015 at 9:07 AM, Louis Proyect <[email protected]> wrote:

> NY Times, Feb. 15 2015
> Monopoly's Inventor: The Progressive Who Didn't Pass 'Go'
> By MARY PILON
>
> For generations, the story of Monopoly's Depression-era origins
> delighted fans almost as much as the board game itself.
>
> The tale, repeated for decades and often tucked into the game's box
> along with the Community Chest and Chance cards, was that an unemployed
> man named Charles Darrow dreamed up Monopoly in the 1930s. He sold it
> and became a millionaire, his inventiveness saving him -- and Parker
> Brothers, the beloved New England board game maker -- from the brink of
> destruction.
>
> This month, fans of the game learned that Hasbro, which has owned the
> brand since 1991, would tuck real money into a handful of Monopoly sets
> as part of the game's 80th "anniversary" celebration.
>
> The trouble is, that origin story isn't exactly true.
>
> It turns out that Monopoly's origins begin not with Darrow 80 years ago,
> but decades before with a bold, progressive woman named Elizabeth Magie,
> who until recently has largely been lost to history, and in some cases
> deliberately written out of it.
>
> Magie lived a highly unusual life. Unlike most women of her era, she
> supported herself and didn't marry until the advanced age of 44. In
> addition to working as a stenographer and a secretary, she wrote poetry
> and short stories and did comedic routines onstage. She also spent her
> leisure time creating a board game that was an expression of her
> strongly held political beliefs.
>
> Magie filed a legal claim for her Landlord's Game in 1903, more than
> three decades before Parker Brothers began manufacturing Monopoly. She
> actually designed the game as a protest against the big monopolists of
> her time -- people like Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller.
>
> She created two sets of rules for her game: an anti-monopolist set in
> which all were rewarded when wealth was created, and a monopolist set in
> which the goal was to create monopolies and crush opponents. Her
> dualistic approach was a teaching tool meant to demonstrate that the
> first set of rules was morally superior.
>
> And yet it was the monopolist version of the game that caught on, with
> Darrow claiming a version of it as his own and selling it to Parker
> Brothers. While Darrow made millions and struck an agreement that
> ensured he would receive royalties, Magie's income for her creation was
> reported to be a mere $500.
>
> Amid the press surrounding Darrow and the nationwide Monopoly craze,
> Magie lashed out. In 1936 interviews with The Washington Post and The
> Evening Star she expressed anger at Darrow's appropriation of her idea.
> Then elderly, her gray hair tied back in a bun, she hoisted her own game
> boards before a photographer's lens to prove that she was the game's
> true creator.
>
> "Probably, if one counts lawyer's, printer's and Patent Office fees used
> up in developing it," The Evening Star said, "the game has cost her more
> than she made from it."
>
> In 1948, Magie died in relative obscurity, a widow without children.
> Neither her headstone nor her obituary mentions her role in the creation
> of Monopoly.
>
> A Born Provocateur
>
> Elizabeth Magie was born in Macomb, Ill., in 1866, the year after the
> Civil War ended and Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. Her father, James
> Magie, was a newspaper publisher and an abolitionist who accompanied
> Lincoln as he traveled around Illinois in the late 1850s debating
> politics with Stephen Douglas.
>
> James Magie gained a reputation as a rousing stump speaker. "I have
> often been called a 'chip off the old block,' " Elizabeth said of her
> relationship with her father, "which I consider quite a compliment, for
> I am proud of my father for being the kind of an 'old block' that he is."
>
> Because of her father's part ownership of The Canton Register, Elizabeth
> was exposed to journalism at an early age. She also watched and listened
> as, shortly after the Civil War, her father clerked in the Illinois
> legislature and ran for office on an anti-monopoly ticket -- an election
> that he lost.
>
> The seeds of the Monopoly game were planted when James Magie shared with
> his daughter a copy of Henry George's best-selling book, "Progress and
> Poverty," written in 1879.
>
> As an anti-monopolist, James Magie drew from the theories of George, a
> charismatic politician and economist who believed that individuals
> should own 100 percent of what they made or created, but that everything
> found in nature, particularly land, should belong to everyone. George
> was a proponent of the "land value tax," also known as the "single tax."
> The general idea was to tax land, and only land, shifting the tax burden
> to wealthy landlords. His message resonated with many Americans in the
> late 1800s, when poverty and squalor were on full display in the
> country's urban centers.
>
> The anti-monopoly movement also served as a staging area for women's
> rights advocates, attracting followers like James and Elizabeth Magie.
>
> In the early 1880s, Elizabeth Magie worked as a stenographer. At the
> time, stenography was a growing profession, one that opened up to women
> as the Civil War removed many men from the work force. The typewriter
> was gaining commercial popularity, leaving many to ponder a strange new
> world in which typists sat at desks, hands fixed to keys, memorizing
> seemingly illogical arrangements of letters on the new qwerty keyboards.
>
> When she wasn't working, Magie, known to her friends as Lizzie,
> struggled to be heard creatively. In the evenings, she pursued her
> literary ambitions, and as a player in Washington's nascent theater
> scene, performed on the stage, where she earned praise for her comedic
> roles. Though small-framed, she had a presence -- an audience at the
> Masonic Hall exploded with laughter at her comical rendition of a
> simpering old woman.
>
> She also spent her time drawing and redrawing, thinking and rethinking
> the game that she wanted to be based on the theories of George, who died
> in 1897.
>
> When she applied for a patent for her game in 1903, Magie was in her
> 30s. She represented the less than 1 percent of all patent applicants at
> the time who were women. (Magie also dabbled in engineering; in her 20s,
> she invented a gadget that allowed paper to pass through typewriter
> rollers with more ease.)
>
> Unusually, Magie was the head of her household. She had saved up for and
> bought her home near Washington, along with several acres of property.
>
> It hadn't been easy. Several years after she obtained the patent for her
> game, and finding it difficult to support herself on the $10 a week she
> was earning as a stenographer, Magie staged an audacious stunt mocking
> marriage as the only option for women; it made national headlines.
> Purchasing an advertisement, she offered herself for sale as a "young
> woman American slave" to the highest bidder. Her ad said that she was
> "not beautiful, but very attractive," and that she had "features full of
> character and strength, yet truly feminine."
>
> The ad quickly became the subject of news stories and gossip columns in
> newspapers around the country. The goal of the stunt, Magie told
> reporters, was to make a statement about the dismal position of women.
> "We are not machines," Magie said. "Girls have minds, desires, hopes and
> ambition."
>
> If Magie's goal had been to gain an audience for her ideas, she
> succeeded. In the fall of 1906 she took a job as a newspaper reporter.
> Four years later, she married a businessman, Albert Phillips, who, at
> 54, was 10 years Lizzie's senior. The union was an unusual one -- a woman
> in the 40s embarking on a first marriage, and a man marrying a woman who
> had publicly expressed her skepticism of marriage as an institution.
>
> Cult Hit to Best Seller
>
> It was a time of shifting attitudes and behaviors. At the turn of the
> 20th century, board games were becoming increasingly commonplace for
> middle-class families. Changing workplaces gave rise to more leisure
> time. Electric lighting was becoming common in American homes,
> reinventing the daily schedule: Games could now be played more safely
> and enjoyably, and for longer hours, than had been possible during the
> gaslight era.
>
> Magie's game featured a path that allowed players to circle the board,
> in contrast to the linear-path design used by many games at the time. In
> one corner were the Poor House and the Public Park, and across the board
> was the Jail. Another corner contained an image of the globe and a
> homage to Henry George: "Labor Upon Mother Earth Produces Wages." Also
> included on the board were three words that have endured for more than a
> century after Lizzie scrawled them there: "Go to Jail."
>
> "It is a practical demonstration of the present system of land-grabbing
> with all its usual outcomes and consequences," Magie said of her game in
> a 1902 issue of The Single Tax Review. "It might well have been called
> the 'Game of Life,' as it contains all the elements of success and
> failure in the real world, and the object is the same as the human race
> in general seem to have, i.e., the accumulation of wealth."
>
> On some level, Lizzie understood that the game provided a context -- it
> was just a game, after all -- in which players could lash out at friends
> and family in a way that they often couldn't in daily life. She
> understood the power of drama and the potency of assuming roles outside
> of one's everyday identity. Her game spread, becoming a folk favorite
> among left-wing intellectuals, particularly in the Northeast. It was
> played at several college campuses, including what was then called the
> Wharton School of Finance and Economy, Harvard University and Columbia
> University. Quakers who had established a community in Atlantic City
> embraced the game and added their neighborhood properties to the board.
>
> It was a version of this game that Charles Darrow was taught by a
> friend, played and eventually sold to Parker Brothers. The version of
> that game had the core of Magie's game, but also modifications added by
> the Quakers to make the game easier to play. In addition to properties
> named after Atlantic City streets, fixed prices were added to the board.
> In its efforts to seize total control of Monopoly and other related
> games, the company struck a deal with Magie to purchase her Landlord's
> Game patent and two more of her game ideas not long after it made its
> deal with Darrow.
>
> In a letter to George Parker, Magie expressed high hopes for the future
> of her Landlord's Game at Parker Brothers and the prospect of having two
> more games published with the company. Yet there's no evidence that
> Parker Brothers shared this optimism, nor could the company -- or Darrow
> -- have known that Monopoly wouldn't be a mere hit, but a perennial best
> seller for generations.
>
> Representatives for Hasbro did not respond to a request for comment.
>
> Magie's identity as Monopoly's inventor was uncovered by accident. In
> 1973, Ralph Anspach, an economics professor, began a decade-long legal
> battle against Parker Brothers over the creation of his Anti-Monopoly
> game. In researching his case, he uncovered Magie's patents and
> Monopoly's folk-game roots. He became consumed with telling the truth of
> what he calls "the Monopoly lie."
>
> In a deposition for that case, Robert Barton, the Parker Brothers
> president who oversaw the Monopoly deal, called Magie's game "completely
> worthless" and said that Parker Brothers had published a small run of
> her games "merely to make her happy."
>
> Mr. Anspach's legal battle lasted a decade and ended at the Supreme
> Court. But he won the right to produce his Anti-Monopoly games, and his
> research into Magie and the game's origins was confirmed.
>
> Roughly 40 years have passed since the truth about Monopoly began to
> appear publicly, yet the Darrow myth persists as an inspirational
> parable of American innovation. It's hard not to wonder how many other
> buried histories are still out there -- stories belonging to lost Lizzie
> Magies who quietly chip away at creating pieces of the world, their
> contributions so seamless that few of us ever stop to think about the
> person or people behind the idea.
>
> Who should get credit for an invention and how? The Monopoly game raises
> that question in a particularly compelling way. "Success has many
> fathers," goes the adage -- to say nothing of the mothers.
>
> This article is adapted from "The Monopolists: Obsession, Fury, and the
> Scandal Behind the World's Favorite Board Game," by Mary Pilon, to be
> published this month by Bloomsbury.
> _______________________________________________
> pen-l mailing list
> [email protected]
> https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l
>



-- 
Michael Perelman
Economics Department
California State University
Chico, CA
95929

530 898 5321
fax 530 898 5901
http://michaelperelman.wordpress.com
_______________________________________________
pen-l mailing list
[email protected]
https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l

Reply via email to